Skulduggery Holmes: A Sherduggery Story
by DeLousional-Panda
Summary: One egotistical sarcastic detective would be enough for any companion - but now there are two. And they don't get along. Whilst fighting not to rip their heads off, Valkyrie Cain and John Watson might find a strange companionship. And Skulduggery doesn't like it one bit. (Valduggery, ValxJohn) (NOT SherlockxSkulduggery)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A Sherlock and Skulduggery cross-over ^-^ This seemed like an amazing idea at the time… I fear for the result. Sorry in advance if updates are not regular :) Reviews would be majorly appreciated :D**

Chapter One

If this man wasn't dead, _Death_ wasn't dead.

The analogy seemed harsh, but it was true. Without a single drop of blood in his body, a single ounce of colour on his face, a single beat of the heart or a single degree of warmth, the man was definitely not alive. In fact, most people wouldn't need to analyse his alive-ness. They'd know he was dead. After one look, they'd turn away and vomit.

Sometimes, Valkyrie Cain wished she was normal, just so she had an excuse to look away. Sadly, she was not, and so she took in the gruesome details of the mangled corpse without batting an eyelash, and prayed for that night's sleep.

"I think he's dead." Valkyrie turned to a tall man next to her, voicing her thoughts.

The tall man glanced at her, tilting his head towards her instead of turning it. "What makes you think that?"

Nearly launching into her internal monologue out loud, she instead opted for, "He doesn't have any blood left."

"Maybe he donated." The man 'suggested'.

"He also has no heart."

"He's not _that_ mean." Valkyrie ignored him.

"He's not breathing."

"He's breathless at the sight of us. Take it as a compliment."

"Skulduggery," the man turned to her at this, "he's dead."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. How many bloodless, breathless, heartless, alive people do you know?" At this, the man seemed to smile, although his face was shadowed by the hat on his head. The only hint to the reaction was the miniscule movement of his hat raising.

He replied immediately. "Me."

Valkyrie didn't reply. Apparently, Death might not be dead.

"But you're right!" The man - Skulduggery - continued, pulling a scarf that muffled his voice a little bit looser. "This man is dead, unlike me, sort of, and unlike me we need to investigate his death!"

Valkyrie pushed the random black hairs from her face, back into the collection of dark, silky strands. "How do you think he died?"

"Magic." Skulduggery replied, as though talking to a toddler asking difficult questions. Without another word, he reached into one of the many pockets of his thick, black trench coat, and pulled out a small pouch. He took a small handful of whatever was inside, and sprinkled it lightly onto the floor. Immediately, it changed to a vibrant blue colour. "Magic." Skulduggery repeated.

Opening her mouth, Valkyrie attempted to reply; however, words escaped her at the sudden sound of stirring outside the door.

Valkyrie looked around quickly for somewhere to hide, but the only other decoration in the room other than the door she was running from and a too-small window was an old, weathered closet. She looked again, but the only option was the closet.

Looking over to the man beside her, she saw her friend lifting his palm slowly, making the vibrant dust collect into a ball, and fly out of the window. Being able to control air looked really useful sometimes.

Stepping into the dusty closet, followed shortly by her friend, she wrinkled her nose. It smelt like dust and wet cats so powerfully, she could practically taste the bitter smell. Rubbing her clammy, sweaty hands together, she watched Skulduggery next to her create a small gust, blowing towards them, which shut the door.

A small slither of light illuminated the 'room,' allowing her to notice beside her. Taking a quick glance, she studied the dark sapphire eyes resting on the heart-shaped head Valkyrie owned. Her skin was slightly tan - not surprisingly considering how much time she spent outside - and she was wearing the same leather jacket and trousers she had been wearing since she was a child, albeit larger versions of the clothing. Much to her dismay, she hadn't grown as tall as she would have thought. Despite growing up short, she had sadly stopped growing a bit too early, and now was just a little too short for her convenience. To make it worse, the man next to her was taller than a mountain. This was the man she spent every day with.

She didn't need to study him to know what he looked like. You didn't forget, when you saw these things. Although his _circumstance _led to puns, (you have great bone structure,) teasing, (oh, don't get all skull-ky,) and revenge for the torment her height caused her, (you're pretty much Slenderman - just so you know,) it was still a strange one, and one Valkyrie could never quite comprehend or forget. Skulduggery was a skellington. A skellington in a suit and tie, with a nice hat on his head. And no face. Or skin.

You don't need to look at him to remember what it looks like. Just go to any primary school science classroom and search the posters on the walls. Right now, however, he was disguised, in a big, thick trenchcoat, a large scarf and a strange pair of sunglasses. His hat was pulled low.

A clear crash punctured the silence of the room as the door slammed open, and two tall figures walked into the 'empty' room. One, the shorter of the two, with graying hair and warm hazel eyes, looked to the other man as soon as he entered. The other man, on the other hand, with short, curly, black hair and light blue eyes, reacted to the scene by moving forward and studying the corpse. The first man looked at the body for a second and turned away, retching slightly. He was normal.

Man number two - who Valkyrie noticed had _very _high cheekbones - examined the room for a few seconds, his gaze switching to random objects, stopping for a while, and then switching right to the next. And then, he spoke.

"To whoever's in the cupboard, you can come out now."

Valkyrie nearly fell over. Skulduggery, next to her, cursed, but did as suggested. She followed him wearily, blinking as the sudden bright light of the room hit her.

The two pairs stood, examining each other for a few moments. The skeleton spoke.

"How did you know?"

Cheekbone-man sighed. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked, looking like he already knew the answer. "No one's been here in a long time, as you can tell by the dust on the floor. The man obviously was, or else he wouldn't be here, but he's got one pair of footprints leading to where he is now, and there's two more pairs of footsteps, both more recent, and both leading to the cupboard. The prints are far away from each other, as though you were running, so you most likely heard something and bolted into the only place to hide. I would have thought it was someone else; but those footsteps do not lead outside. You couldn't be anywhere except in the room, and there was only one place to be." He explained lazily.

"Oh." Said Skulduggery.

Grey-haired-man, on Cheekbone-man's right, spoke next, seeming undisturbed by his friend's eagle-eyes. Valkyrie herself felt a little put out.

"I'm John Watson. This is Sherlock Holmes." Valkyrie decided she liked him - John - better. He was less annoying. "Who, exactly, are you?"

"Skulduggery Pleasant." Skulduggery chimed instantly. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at the name. "And this is my sidekick-"

"Valkyrie Cain. And I'm not his 'sidekick'." She smiled, nodding her head at them. John smiled politely back at her, but Sherlock tilted his head.

"You both have very odd names. They're not your birth names." John gave him a look, which Sherlock ignored.

"What makes you think that?" Skulduggery responded, sounding annoyed.

"You're-"

"Sherlock, don't you think we should get back to the case?" John interrupted quickly.

"Alright then. You two need to leave." He said, looking up at Valkyrie and Skulduggery.

"Why should we leave?" Valkyrie asked, feeling another twinge of irritation.

"I'm sorry, this is a closed-off area. It needs to be empty for investigations."

That was the worst thing he could have said, Valkyrie decided. It was only going to offend Skulduggery.

"We're investigators." Skulduggery said calmly.

"Nevertheless, this case already has a detective-"

"Yes, me." Interrupted Skulduggery, his voice still eerily calm.

"I doubt it." Sherlock said. "Detectives are almost always involved with the law, and judging by your attire, you'd like anything except the law to see you."

"We're that almost. There's always an off pair - that would be us."

"I don't care, you need to be off the perimeter!" Sherlock was raising his voice. John blinked. Sherlock never raised his voice this easily.

"No!" Skulduggery shouted back. "I'm investigating whether you like it or not! This has important elements you can't begin to understand. You need to leave." Valkyrie arched her eyebrow. Skulduggery seemed unnecessarily angry.

"A skeleton cannot lead an investigation, Mr Pleasant." Valkyrie swore she stopped breathing. If Skulduggery had eyes, they would have widened. John turned to Sherlock, shocked.

Skulduggery sighed, removing his scarf and glasses. John cried out in shock, stepping backwards a step or two. "You don't seem surprised." Skulduggery commented to Sherlock.

"You're not the first unexplained anomaly I've come across - only the first I've spoken to."

Skulduggery adjusted his hat on his head. "Great. Now leave."

"As the world's only consulting detective, I think I have authority over you. Get out."

"'Consulting Detective,' isn't a job. I'm older than you, I get to tell you what to do. Get out." Valkyrie sighed as the two continued to fight. Her eyes flashed to John's, just as his did the same to hers. He offered a sorry smile, as though apologising for Sherlock. Valkyrie did the same for Skulduggery. The skeleton could be great at times, but at others, he was unbearable. The two companions broke eye contact when the shouting started.

"Sherlock, calm down!" Hissed John.

Valkyrie just watched the angry Skulduggery. She never knew how to deal with him when he was mad. Usually, it ended with him leaving whatever made him cross; Skulduggery grabbed her wrist, beginning to drag her from the room. Sherlock was already storming out, with John trailing behind him.

Hopefully, the pairs wouldn't meet again. Unfortunately, Valkyrie doubted it. Skulduggery didn't give up on cases, and Sherlock was far too like Skulduggery to not.

Like it or not, the four were probably going to see each other again, and Valkyrie already dreaded it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter Two… This is more to do with Valkyrie and John than anything :) There's a nice plot pivot coming next chapter, so watch out ^-^ Reviews rule, so you know, if you want to that'd be great, special thanks to Raychaell Dionzeros and Echo Haze who did review :D And especially to Echo Haze who favorited, I'm honoured :) sorry for the time this took, I was rendered computer-less ;-;**

Chapter Two

A light above the woman's head hummed as it flickered. It annoyed her to no end. She needed it to stop before she lost her temper completely; she wasn't in the best of moods.

After her companion and 'best-friend' decided he was, indeed, going to take the case, he also decided to plan an elaborate scheme to injure the 'consulting' detective opposing him. And although he would never go through with it, he did put all of his effort into it… and completely forgot to pick up groceries.

Running her hand through her knotted hair, the girl called Valkyrie sighed. She wouldn't have been so annoyed that her need for food was forgotten, if he at least told her there was no dinner! It was eleven now, and her stomach was rumbling like mad, upset about the last few hours that had been wasted waiting for food.

The rundown diner she was in at the moment seemed okay, but the light was _really _starting to annoy her. She needed to think of something else before she broke it. She needed a distraction...

"Valkyrie?"

Perfect. "John Watson." She smirked, spinning on her feet and looking at the man in front of her. She knew him the moment she heard him - Sherlock's companion. How could she forget when Skulduggery kept muttering about the duo under his breath?

The man smiled politely. "I had a feeling I'd see you. Although, I'm glad it's now, not when _they're _here."

Valkyrie chuckled. "Thank God for that. I don't need them fighting in public."

Shaking his head, John said, "I'm sorry for Sherlock. He's usually calmer than that."

"So is Skulduggery." Valkyrie said, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't think they can take it when another one of them is staring right at them."

John laughed. "They are pretty similar, aren't they?"

The two continued to talk, sitting down in one of the many free booths as they waited for their meals.

"Valkyrie, you have a very interesting name."

"John, you have a very normal one."

John chuckled. "Where does it come from? It seems familiar."

"It's an old mythical creature. It chooses who lives or dies in battle."

"That's cool. Your parents like mythology, then?"

"Not quite. There's a whole name deal, from where I come from - let's call it a culture thing. Your parents name you, then you choose your own name, and if you're lucky, you'll find a third name; your true name."

"Really?" Looking surprised, John leaned forward onto his arms. "What was your original name?"

"Stephanie." She answered carefully.

"Have you found your true name?"

Shaking her head, she spoke. "No. And I'm glad. I feel like I might not like it."

"When do you decide? On your chosen name, I mean." John seemed very interested, but Valkyrie was nervous she would let something important slip. When she hesitated, John seemed to realise she was walking a tightrope. "You don't need to worry about what I know." He assured her. Lowering his voice, he added, "I've already seen your skeleton friend. You can't surprise me too much after that."

"Oh, trust me, there's a lot more than a skeleton to be surprised at." Valkyrie stopped for a second. "I chose my name when I was twelve. Some people choose it earlier, some later. It depends on your situation, really." She explained, smiling slightly as she remembered herself discovering magic.

"And… where did the skeleton come in?" John asked with a nervous chuckle.

"I met him before I chose my name. He introduced me to everything." She blinked, releasing herself from her memories, and looked up at him.

"But why is he a skeleton?"

Valkyrie laughed. "He used to be dead."

John chuckled, "But why is he a _skeleton_?"

"Dead people don't have skin."

John blinked.

The waitress came over then, smiling at them both and placing two plates in front of them, both filled excessively with food.

"Anything else I can get you?" She asked kindly. Valkyrie shook her head.

"I'm good, thanks." Said John.

As the waitress left, Valkyrie thought it best to change the subject.

"Tell me about Sherlock."

"Sherlock?"

"Yeah, Sherlock."

"He's… Well…" John hesitated. "Sherlock isn't very easy to explain."

"You could try."

"You're right, I could." Valkyrie gave him a look.

"Sherlock is 'different,' it's not easy to describe..."

"And a skeleton is pre-school work, truly."

John laughed. "Sherlock is a very _interesting _man, for lack of a better word. He doesn't quite understand feelings, and he is eccentric with some of the things he does."

"Eccentric, how?"

"To put it simply, I will willingly bet you my life's savings that there is a brain in our fridge right now."

"That's disgusting," Valkyrie said, but she was laughing.

Two plates of burgers and fries and four coffees later, the two were still talking; albeit about much calmer topics.

"-and I said 'No, it's in the gloves!'" Valkyrie finished, giggling. John was drinking coffee number five as he spoke, and he sputtered, with some of the coffee leaking onto the table.

Valkyrie laughed even harder, ducking her head to the table.

"I hate to end the... whatever this is you two are doing, but we're closing." A bossier waitress from earlier said, chewing her gum loudly behind darkly colored lips. She stared at them as they paid the bill, and didn't stop staring until they had left.

As they left the diner, John's phone began to buzz.

He answered it without looking at who had called.

"Hello, Sherlock."

"John, it's one am. I don't know how long 'I'll be back soon' entails, but this isn't it."

"I'm on my way." John said, and then he hung up before Sherlock could say anything else.

Just as he did, a big black car - a Bentley - pulled up around the corner, stopping in front of them. John didn't need to guess who was inside.

"Wow, our parents are really mad." Valkyrie said quietly to him, and he snickered like a teenager.

The door swung open and Skulduggery emerged, his thick scarf and sunglasses hiding his skull from the empty streets.

"Hi." Valkyrie said, after a moment of silence.

"I've got to go, Sherlock's going to be annoyed."

"Bye," Valkyrie smiled.

Skulduggery did not move.

John smiled at her, gave an awkward look to the skeleton that made it obvious he was thinking about him being a skeleton, and left, limping slightly.

Valkyrie stepped into the Bentley, ignoring Skulduggery as he finally began to talk; ranting to her about Sherlock and John as he had at least twenty times already.

"You were hanging around the enemy!" Skulduggery stressed.

"The enemy? Skulduggery, Sherlock is a detective that solves crimes the normal police can't, and John is his companion-helper person, who's learning as he goes. Does that sound familiar? Hell, he even has a signature hat! Does this remind you of anything in our situation?"

Skulduggery thought for a moment.

"You're right."

Valkyrie smiled.

"They've stolen our case and now they're stealing our franchise."

Valkyrie stopped smiling.

John wasn't having luck with Sherlock, either.

"You were with the girl." He'd said the second John had entered the room.

"How did you - you know what? I don't wanna know." John had replied shaking his head and dumping his coat on the couch as he walked further into the room.

"Was the skeleton there?" Sherlock asked. He was in his pajamas, although he looked nowhere near tired, and was sat on a polished wooden chair, rocked back onto only the back two legs. His feet were stretched out onto the nearby desk, and he was holding his violin.

"No, he wasn't. Or at least, not until the end. He came to pick her up."

"And what did he say?" Sherlock asked sharply, bringing his legs down and putting the chair onto four legs.

"Nothing. Literally nothing. Not a word."

"And what did _she _say?"

John paused. "We just spoke about random things - things that had happened to us, mostly."

"That's not what I asked." Sherlock said.

"I know it's not." Replied John.

They sat staring at each other for a few moments, before John sighed.

"Her name is Valkyrie,"

"I knew that,"

"But she chose her name. Her real name is Stephanie. It's a culture thing."

"A culture thing?" Sherlock shuffled closer. "Tell me more about this culture; If I find out where they're from, I could find an easy way to stop them. Maybe honour has a high value, maybe they would be willing to leave us alone for a certain price." He finished, mumbling to himself.

"I don't know much. They're given a name when they're born, then they chose their own name. Sometimes, they have this third name, a true name, but it's not common to find. She said she didn't want to know hers."

Sherlock nodded to himself. "Anything else?"  
"No, Sherlock." John sighed, flopping onto the couch.

"Did she ever mention honour? Or collections of anything?" John shook his head. "Any sacred animals?"

"Nothing." John said, rolling his eyes.

"Fine." Sherlock said shortly. "Don't talk to her again."

"Sherlock, they're not enemies-"

"No, they're not enemies."

John smiled.

"They're opponents - opponents we will beat."

John stopped smiling.

"One thing is clear," Said Skulduggery.

"We've got competition." Finished Sherlock.

The game was on.

**A/N: Do you think they're OOC? Review if you do, and I'll work on it.**


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